So Let There be Mercy (Tales From the BorderlandsBorderlands 2fanfic)
by poptartkaii
Summary: Mercedes (Or more commonly known as Mercy) is the illegitimate daughter of the renown Handsome Jack. When she tries to escape an arranged marriage to Vasquez, her ship gets sent off course to Pandora, where she relies on the kindness, or lack thereof, of the Pandorans. Soon, two men from Hyperion join her, one harboring the AI of her father, while Mercy's husband tracks her down.
1. PrologueChapter One: The Proposal

**Author's Note:** So this is my first story published on . It's a Tales from the Borderlands/Borderlands 2 fan fiction involving my and a friend's role play characters. In keeping with the spirit of Tales from the Borderlands, the story is tailored to the decisions the characters make. A wrong choice can lead to their demise, but the story picks up right where it left off. It doesn't end- the endings merely provide insight to the reader. (Trust me, at the end this will all make sense.)

I really hope you enjoy this fan fiction, and I am open to any advice and constructive criticism you have to offer.

-Poptart_Kaii

 **So Let There be Mercy**

 **A Character's Life**

Character Playlist:

 _She Used to be Mine from The Waitress_

 _Control from Halsey's BADLANDS_

 _River by BISHOP_

 _I Dare You by Bea Miller_

 _Silver Lining by First Aid Kit_

 _I Can Go the Distance cover by annapantsu_

 _Control by Halsey_

 _Let it Go by James Bay_

 _Let it Go cover by Madilyn Bailey_

 _Over You by Daughtry_

 _Home by Daughtry_

 _Hold Me Down by Halsey_

 _Cosmic Love by Florence + The Machine_

 _No Light, No Light Florence + The Machine_

 _So Close sung by Jon McLaughlin_

 _Say Something (I'm Giving Up on You) A Great Big World + Christina Aguilera_

 _Wild Horses by BISHOP_

 _Just One Yesterday by Fall Out Boy_

 _Alone Together by Fall Out Boy_

 _Pompeii by Bastille_

 _Unsteady by X Ambassadors_

 _Angel with a Shotgun by The Cab_

 _Everybody Talks by Neon Trees_

 _Burn from Hamilton, by Lin Manuel Miranda_

 _More will be added._

 ** _Prologue_**

Mercy was an average girl.

At least, she liked to believe so. She liked to close her eyes and pretend for one moment that she had no drop of special blood in her. That she was sitting in class with her friends, laughing and talking about boys and girly things and gawking over nail polish. She liked to pretend that her mother would be waiting for her when she came back from school, that she'd be _there_ , not just physically but mentally.

But then someone in the seat next to her would cough and mutter, "Daddy's girl", or "dirty slut's child" or some insult aimed at her and Mercy would open her mismatched eyes and find herself staring at her reflection in the mirror because the insults followed her everywhere, even into her own home where someone maybe hadn't spoken to her in days.

Mercy wiped the steam off the mirror with her hand so she could see herself better. This was a morning routine for her. She would stand there, age 16, clutching her towel around her and study her face. Her eyes were a dead giveaway of her bloodline, her mother would tell her between swigs of the bottle and drags of the cigarettes, and that sometimes the light hit them just right and would bring out the green in the left one.

Well her mother was delusional, because Mercy's eyes were both blue. But one was a deep blue, and the other light as ice. But her mother also believed that her father was coming back to her one day because he promised her, so Mercy didn't really pay much attention to what she said all that much anymore.

Until it was when Mercy woke up to her uncle shaking her to get out of bed in the late night in mid October, saying her mother wanted one last word with her.

Her stomach twisting up in knots, Mercy walked down the dimly lit hall to her mother's dingy room. Her mother, Alice, looked half dead already, and the other half was coming soon.

She beckoned her daughter over and Mercy found her feet couldn't move as fast as she wanted them to. When she reached her mother's side, she had already mumbled something and reached beneath her pillow.

Mercy watched as her mother offered her something clutched in her fist- a silver chain caught an unknown light source and shone. Alice's fingers splayed open to reveal the ring that her father had given her over 16 years ago, when he left.

"I want you to have it," Alice slurred.

"I don't want it," Mercy said, stepping back, but Alice reached out and grabbed her shirt with surprising speed and a strong grip.

"Take it, child," Alice said. "Take it and find him. He's your father and needs to know that I died waiting for him to come back to me." She coughed a few times, deep and painful ones, and handed the necklace to Mercy.

She stared at it in her palm long after her mother had passed, when her uncle had led her out into the living room to sit and process the shock.

But Mercy wasn't shocked. Far from it. Her mother's death had been a long time coming, and she had said her goodbyes so long ago as a five year old girl, when Alice first took a sip of that bottle and refused to set it down for eleven years after that. When her uncle came to live with them because someone found that poor Mercy hadn't eaten in three days and was wandering around the grungy food market begging for pieces of bread and fruit. When Alice had to be confined to the bed because everything was slowly shutting down and, with the lack of medical technology on this planet, no one could tell Mercy why.

Mercy closed her fingers around the cool metal of the ring, looking across the room to the mirror hanging on the wall. She slowly got up and walked over to it, watching her reflection get closer. With hesitancy, Mercy slid the chain around her throat and clasped the lock, moving her hair out from underneath the thin silver line. The ring hung between her breasts- a golden band with a large red gemstone in the middle. Hyperion was written on one side, and her father's initials were written on the other. The red stone was carved to look like a 'V', a symbol of the vaults her father was known for finding.

She would either be praised or crucified for this ring, and she didn't know which was worse. The insults from the girls were out of fear, as well as the admiration from the boys and lenience of the teachers. It was supposed to be only them, the teachers, that knew her secret, but 16 years ago everyone saw Alice and Jack waltz into a room together, and any idiot could put 2 and 2 together when they saw Alice's belly grow a little each week for 9 months after that. Anyone could get 4 when they saw Mercy. Even as a child she took after her father.

Mercy tucked the ring into her shirt, out of sight. Her uncle came into the living room and cleared his throat.

"We're leaving this place after the funeral." He informed her.

Mercy stared at him for several seconds, then turned and left to her room, closing the door quietly behind her. She sat at the edge of her bed and reached under the mattress, pulling out an old propaganda poster of Handsome Jack.

"Well Dad," she said quietly to the poster, "looks like it's just you and me."

 **Chapter One: The Proposal**

Every day working for Hyperion was a nerve wracking experience.

Mostly because Mercy had gone to school for 10 years to be a mechanical engineer, but she was here giving tours of her deceased father's office and life.

For the first two years after her mother's death, Mercy was working an internship on one of Hyperions' space station in the mechanical engineering program, and excelled at it. Then, without explanation, she was sent to Helios. When she arrived, she was relieved to find that no one knew who she was. Her uncle handled the documentation for her, as the files said she was a daughter of Handsome Jack. Only high officials knew of her existence- the files were encrypted and almost impossible to hack. It was easier to use the password, but even that was protected.

These were sacred files. And if they fell into the wrong hands, well… her uncle assured her they wouldn't.

Mercy was excited to start her life here, to know what it was like to be normal. At least by Hyperion standards. The fashion was lacking but she went with it. Anything to fit in. Throughout her internship she was coddled- not because she was a girl, she proved them her capabilities on her first day, but because someone let it slip who her daddy was and suddenly everything was easy and every mistake was waved off. All anyone could talk to her about was Handsome Jack, ask her questions that only someone close to him would know. She would lock her jaw and keep turning the screw in front of her until they eventually gave up and left her alone.

But here… she was given a tour guide's uniform when she reported for duty. She looked quizzically to the person opposite her, who merely shrugged and said, "it is what it is. Move along."

The next six years were a blur- giving tours all day every day, with only an hour in between them for rest and lunch. She tried to grin and bear it, but most nights when she took off those black heels and sat on her bed, she felt drained. Some nights she cried. Others she sat in silence.

Then, one day, when she was 26, Mercy was promoted out of the blue. Head tour guide, tasked with only the VIP tours and overseeing all the tour guides, setting up times for everything and advising displays. She had a chance to breathe, and on the days she was touring she was given high pay rates. Oddly, Mercy began to feel happy.

A few weeks after she was given that promotion, however, Mercy was called upon to visit Helios's vice president. Nervously, she walked through the halls and gave a nod at the secretary.

"He's been waiting," the secretary said, typing into her computer, glasses perched on her nose. "And you know corporate doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Mercy didn't respond. Her VIP tour had run late- they wanted to stay in Handsome Jack's office for a while longer and paid her a hefty sum for the extra time, but unfortunately she was more than half an hour late. Mercy was ushered in and the door slid shut behind her. She looked back longingly to the comfortable lighting of the hallway. Here it was dark, with nothing but the desk in the center of the large room and a circular window that opened up the world of Pandora.

"You can sit down," said a voice from the desk. The chair was turned away from her, so she couldn't see whoever was in it. The voice was vaguely familiar.

Mercy's heels clicked against the floor as she walked forward and stood just beside one of the chairs in front of the desk.

"You wanted to see me?" Mercy asked, hands clasped in front of her. She never had felt so weak, so small, up until that point. She never really had to deal with corporate- that was all her uncle's doing.

The chair swiveled and the person in it came into the dim light.

Hugo Vasquez.

Mercy shuddered internally. She hated the guy- to put it politely, he was a dick.

"Have a seat," Vasquez said, waving to the chair beside Mercy.

Mercy glanced to the black chair then back to the corporate man.

"I'd rather stand," she said meekly. Vasquez came out from behind the desk and walked over to her, towering over her.

" _I said to sit down_ ," he said in a voice that was rich velvet, but they both knew there was an underlying tone that he could, and would, make her sit down if she didn't soon.

She chose to obey, crossing her legs and sitting tall, hands in her lap, her face impassive even though her heart was thumping against her ribs by this point.

"Now as you know," Vasquez said, adjusting his tie and walking in circles around the chair and desk, like a shark would its injured prey, "I am a man of power. A respected individual. I lack nearly nothing- power, wits, intelligence, I have it all." He turned and looked at her. "I'm set up for life. Like you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Mercy lied smoothly, having been told what to do in situations like this- play the dumb blonde. "I live paycheck to paycheck like the rest of the lower class workers."

"Ah but you're not a low class worker," Vasquez corrected, holding up his hand and silencing her. "You're not low class at all, are ya? Let's see…" He went to his computer and brought up her file and employee ID.

Mercy shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The corporate scum had access to this information and Vasquez was a sneaky bastard. She had to find a way to lie out of this one.

"Yes, it says right here that your father is one _handsome_ fellow," Vasquez, glancing at her over the screen, his face bathed in the blue glow and giving him an ominous lighting.

Mercy was silent, except for the tapping of her heel on the ground as anxiety began to set in. That was the first bite- the shark was coming closer now, liking what it had tasted.

"Alright," she said, setting both feet on the ground. "How much do you want?"

Vasquez barked a laugh and closed the file from his screen, staying behind his desk. "Oh my dear girl, you misheard. I said I have almost everything, and that includes money. I just need one more thing and I'll be completely set."

"And what might you need?" Mercy asked, glowering at the man. He smiled and walked over to her, placing his hand on her knee and sliding it up her thigh, just beneath the hem of the pencil skirt of her tour guide uniform.

"I'll spread the wealth if you, let's just say… spread something else," he said in a low growl, gripping the flesh of her thigh. Mercy jumped up, chest to chest with the man as he refused to move. His hand dropped to his side and he grinned at her expectantly as she moved away. "I understand that was a bit crude," he said with a chuckle, running his hand through his raven black hair, "but I'd make an honest woman out of you. The ceremony, the rings, the white dress, although, hell, we both know you're not the virgin and virtuous kind. Not with those legs and a chest like that."

Mercy reddened in the face, partly anger but mostly embarrassment.

"I won't," she said finally. "I appreciate the offer, trust me, it's… flattering, but I cannot marry you."

Vasquez sighed dramatically and went to sit down at his desk.

"Such a shame," he said, sorting through some files on his desk and nonchalantly opening one and flipping through it. Mercy caught sight of a woman with milk white skin and hair and a mask, but the page flipped before she could get a better look. "I was always so nice to you. Your father really seemed to like me, always taking time out of his day for me. I figured he would approve of me. I gave you all those promotions too. But oh well." His eyes flashed maliciously to hers. "Let me make this clear, _sweetheart_ ," he said the word with a razor's edge in his voice, "if you don't marry me, I'll leak the files to everyone here. Your secret will be out."

Mercy squared her shoulders.

"People idolised my father," she said, chin up and trying to establish dominance, and lie to herself that she wasn't terrified of what this man would do to her, "so you'd be doing me a favor, actually."

"On Helios, in Hyperion, yes," Vasquez said with a wave of his hand, his robotic golden pinky catching the light and glimmering, "but on Pandora? Any planet Jack conquered? DAHL? The right information leaked to the wrong people could cause… complications. And when you come running to me to protect you, well…" He grinned wickedly. "There would be only so much I would- could do."

Mercy felt her confidence deflate.

"So I die," she said, sounding less sure than before. "So what?"

"Oh, Mercy," Vasquez said, standing and going over to her again. He took her hand and raised it to his lips, his beard tickling her skin as he grazed her knuckles. Her stomach churned over at the contact. "If you don't obey your superiors, well… other people could get hurt. It would be such a shame if, oh say, an accident occurred at your uncle's workplace, right?"

Mercy's eye widened and she tried to yank her hand back, but Vasquez held tight, his other arm encircling her waist and pulling her close, their hips touching. The shark had her now. It was only a matter of time.

"Say the word and he's dead. Say another word and he lives to see you walk down the aisle," Vasquez whispered, his lips close to her ear.

Mercy was silent and frozen. After a couple seconds he released her and went back to his desk.

"You're lying," Mercy stammered out.

"Oh?" He quirked a brow and pushed a speaker button on his desk, leaning over and saying, "Geoffrey, let's go ahead and take care of that… situation we spoke about earlier."

"Of course sir," came the unemotional voice from the other side, sounding tinny due to the frequency. "Say the word and it's done, sir."

Vasquez glanced to Mercy and winked.

"Geoffrey-" he began to say, but Mercy cut him off.

"Wait!" She said. Vasquez took his finger off the button and leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head as he waited for the answer he already knew. The shark had pulled her under, down into the dark depths. She saw no way out, and only had to accept her fate. "I'll… I'll do it," she whispered, hugging her arms close to herself, feeling broken and small. She looked down to the tops of her black shiny stilettos.

Vasquez said nothing. She heard the chair creak and the speaker button buzz.

"Keep the subject alive," was all he said, and Mercy heard a grunt of agreement. The chair creaked again and she heard footsteps approach her. The tips of black shoes nearly touched hers and she followed them up to Vasquez, who was staring at her with a gentle smile but a fiery look in his eyes.

"Thought so," he said, gripping her chin in between his thumb and fore finger a moment. "Now, I have other matters to attend to, but I will see you tonight, at my place, to go over the necessary arrangements." He left her to stand there as he went back to his desk, telling his secretary through the comm to let someone named Rhys know he was ready for him. He looked back up to Mercy. "You're still here?" He asked in half surprise. "Run along- I've got another business deal to attend to."

Mercy stared sullenly at him a moment before adjusting her hair and tugging at the end of her shirt, walking to the door.

"Oh, and Mercedes," Vasquez called in that silver lined voice, using her full name. She stopped and half turned, looking over her shoulder at him. She was determined not to let the tears fall until she was in private, but they were already dotting her eyelashes like dew.

"Yes?" She asked in a quiet tone.

"A proper woman does as her superior tells her to. Wear that blue dress tonight," he said, and sat down, waving her off. Mercy studied him a moment before walking through the open doors.

She glanced to Rhys and Vaughn as she walked by them. Vaughn was talking to Rhys about a possible promotion, but she and Rhys shared a look and a nod of acknowledgement; she even offered an encouraging smile.

Mercy made it as far as the elevator doors before the tears came crashing down her cheeks.

Vasquez's new living quarters were vast and neat looking- the latter unexpected. Mercy had been summoned after working hours to visit her husband to-be to discuss the details of the wedding. Her uncle had wanted to attend, but Mercy persuaded him to stay behind. She was an adult now, and could negotiate things herself, even if either outcome didn't look too appetising.

Mercy had been led in by some little cleaning robot to the main living room and told that Vasquez was on an important call but would see to her soon. So she was wandering around the room in that little blue dress that she had been told to wear, her hair down and straightened, and new makeup applied after she had cried it all off the first time. She was standing by the window, looking down at Pandora. From here it almost looked beautiful, with a thin layer of skin that counted as an atmosphere. The planet was practically waterless, but the blue hue by the atmosphere gave the surface some regality. Something it didn't have with its terrifying creatures and ruthless people. Mercy shuddered at the thought of bandits and psychos- she couldn't imagine ever settling down with some Pandoran.

Yet she couldn't fathom why she was settling down with someone who may actually be worse than Pandoran scum.

She could hear Vasquez somewhere, his voice droning on and on though his words were incoherent. She tried to lie to herself, tell herself that it was comforting, hearing someone else through the walls of the rooms and know she was not alone. But the closer his voice got the more tense she felt.

"Ah, there you are," she heard from the other end of the room, and turned to see Vasquez standing in one of the doorways, still dressed in his sharp tailored suit.

Silently she nodded; a greeting.

"Do you like the view?" He asked, moving closer, his hands going to her forearms and turning her so she was nestled against him and both were facing the window, his lips right by her ear. "You should see the window in the bedroom. But don't worry- the glass can be made one sided."

Mercy repressed a shudder and stepped out of his embrace, saying, "you wanted to talk about the wedding plans?"

"Yes," Vasquez responded, unfazed by her lack of affection and wandering over to the coffee table sitting in the center of the room, picking up a bottle of red wine and pouring it into two glasses that shone beside it. He took a place on the loveseat and held a glass out to her. "You and I have much to glance over, and your uncle offered to help as well. Have a seat; have a drink."

Obediently, Mercy sauntered over and took the glass of wine, raising it to her lips. God she needed alcohol, and badly. She hadn't had any in awhile.

"I'm glad you've decided to become my bride," Vasquez said, his fingertips glancing over her arm and gesturing to the space on the loveseat beside him. "If you hadn't, well… we know what would have happened to your last standing family member. This is a healthy thing- for all of us."

"Healthy," replied Mercy after she ended her long sip. She could chug the whole bottle at this point, with how stressed she felt. But the last thing she wanted to do was get drunk, especially around someone who could easily have her disrobed and tangled in his sheets the second alcohol could fully stop her from saying no. She was already going to be at that point soon, but if she could put it off she was somewhat happy. And, Mercy thought to herself, if she played her cards right she might be able to find a way out of this. She placed her glass of wine on the table for later.

"Exactly," crooned Vasquez, and he reached out to play with her hair. When she stiffened he frowned and withdrew his hand. "You'll have to get used to my touch sometime, darling. You're going to be feeling it a lot."

Mercy felt heat rise to her cheeks. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. The man frightened her, he truly did. No one seemed to scare her as much as he, and she had been a tough cookie all her life. Perhaps it was how easily he had gotten her cornered, or perhaps it had to do with her uncle's life hanging in the balance, but even before that just seeing him around when he was middle management had given her a kind of jolt in her belly; a warning sign, a red flag.

"Now then," Vasquez said, "this is all a bit… unorthodox, but not unusual. We can schedule the wedding for, say, this weekend. With my name as the VP, we'll get the best deals and everything will be done in a timely fashion. And-" he nudged her a little, "I'll be giving everything to my secretary to do, so all you have to do is try on dresses and then relax from there."

"Sounds … easy," Mercy conceded, keeping her tone neutral. She settled back against the leather of the loveseat and crossed her legs, running her fingers through her hair as she became more relaxed. Praise God for alcohol. She felt more at ease now. She closed her eyes and let the good feeling spread.

"You know what it sounds like?" Vasquez said, his voice like velvet. Mercy heard the clink of a glass being put down on the table. He shifted in the spot next to her.

"Hmm…?" Mercy made the sound low in her throat, and felt something at the base of the couch, near her legs. Her eyes opened and he was standing above her, looking down longingly at the curve of her breasts beneath the blue dress and his fingers skimming her smooth thigh.

"Cause for celebration," came the growled answer and before Mercy could think she was on her back on the loveseat, and he was loosening his tie. She propped herself up on her elbows, huffing some of her bangs from her eyes.

"Wait, what?" Was all she could get out.

"Come on, Mercedes," Vasquez said, gripping her thigh and staring down at her with a gruesome grin as he got one knee on the leather surface of the couch, climbing over her. He used his other knee to pry her legs apart and placed one hand by her waist and the other by her head, leaning over her. "Don't you think we should have some fun? It's warranted- we've both been working hard. This is our treat." His fingers dotted the edge of her dress and she jolted a little against him. He laughed at her. "Ticklish? Timid, maybe?" His hand took hers and guided it up his thigh and hip and placed it on his neck. "Don't worry- I'll be nice." He smirked and a mischievous look gleamed in his amber eyes. "If only until your clothes come off."

"Don't you think…" Mercy said, her voice trailing off when he began kissing down her jawline and neck, lowering himself to lay atop her. When his hips touched hers she felt electricity jolt up through her. She found the courage to speak again. "Don't you think we should wait? Until our wedding night?"

A low growl was what passed for an answer as he roamed wherever he wanted to. Finally his face came back into view and he was cradling her in his arms, deft fingers sliding over the zipper along her back and bringing it apart.

"Where's the fun in that?" He asked her, and kissed her lips.

"Vasquez-" She began to protest.

"Call me Hugo," was the interrupting response. She felt the grip of her dress loosen as he worked the fabric down. "And get used to the name, babe. You'll be screaming it all night."


	2. Chapter 2: The Escape

Chapter Two: The Escape

Life on Helios wasn't much easier after that.

Wedding planning commenced with a ferocity that Mercy didn't feel whatsoever. Every day that passed filled her with more dread. She felt her smile looked so fake nowadays that she didn't try and hide her displeasure. Most of the important stuff was done anyway- the dress, the wedding cakes, the venue, nearly everything was planned out. With the end of the week approaching and the wedding date coming up, Mercy found herself withdrawn from her work, her life, and felt like she was just floating through the day. She would remember waking up and remember crawling between the sheets at night, but everything else was a blur.

She remembered that she lived but she didn't remember living. She knew she breathed but didn't remember her chest rising and falling. She knew her cheeks were wet with tears each night but didn't feel them anymore.

Every time she slept in her bed she reminded herself that this was one night closer to never sleeping alone again. She would have some psychotic, misogynistic male beside her who put the 'man' in 'maniac'. Heaven forbid she actually ever had any children. She told herself she would find a way out, like her uncle told her, but then she also had to tell herself that she had made a promise. And if there was one thing Mercy had learned from her failure of parents, it was that if she ever made a promise she would see it through, for someone's sake if not her own. This only made her more depressed because she couldn't see herself getting anything out of this deal accept maybe a comfier living space, and even that was a stretch because she would have to share it with a man she hated.

Mercy didn't sleep at all the night before the wedding. If she did she certainly didn't remember closing her eyes and dreaming. The knots in her stomach had become so twisted that she couldn't keep anything but water down for days. When the synthetic sun shone through the slits of her simulated blinds and the alarm clock went off, Mercy knew she had to get up but couldn't bring herself to do so. Finally, numbly, her feet hit the ground and she went to the bathroom, starting up the shower. She looked at herself in the mirror and the name hit her: Mrs. Hugo Vasquez. The thought caused her to dry heave for several moments- nothing was left in her stomach.

The hot water made her feel better, and when she wiped away the steam from the mirror after her shower she studied herself. The light in her mismatched eyes had long died out and now they were duller than ever. She wrapped herself in her robe and made her way over to the other side of her bedroom to her closet, taking the white and purple dress from the rack and laying it out on her bed. If she weren't filled with so much dread she would think the dress was pretty.

It was, but she couldn't appreciate it. She unzipped the protective bag covering the material and stared down at the eggshell white gown, a strapless one with a sweetheart neckline. Near the end of the dress the fabric became translucent and purple tulle spilled out in an epic mermaid fashion, starting as lilac and gradiently running to violet. Matching lilac and violet shoes, lilac gloves, and a royal purple rose bouquet would complete the look.

Mercy covered the dress back up and went back to the bathroom to do her hair and makeup with a completely straight face. Perhaps the scariest part was her lack of feeling at this point. She didn't care that in less than two hours she would take the name of someone she despised, and at the end of the night she would be his in every way he saw fit, which he felt was necessary to gloat to her every time they saw each other. She was tired with the stress and felt drained- truly, she just wanted it all to be over. She could pretend to be happy in a marriage, she lied to herself, but she couldn't pretend to be happy during the engagement.

The mirror showed her how pretty she looked in the nearly complete ensemble. All she needed now was the veil, which her uncle had left at the store last night. He promised to bring it by that morning. At a little under an hour before the ceremony, Mercy heard a knock on her door. It opened after she entered the code on the keypad and her uncle walked in. A weathered man in his sixties, his face and skin leathery after working long years in the sun, his hands tough and calloused and blistered with more stories than the 26 years Mercy had been alive.

"You look beautiful," her uncle said with sadness as he placed the veil amongst the curls of her hair, and adjusted it over her shoulders to glide down her back.

"Yes," said Mercy robotically. Her eyes focused on her uncle in the mirror, who was holding back tears. He never cried- not even at his sister's, her mother, funeral. She turned towards him. "What's wrong?" She asked gently.

"I don't want you to do this," her uncle gasped as he sobbed. "I want you to be happy."

"I am happy," Mercy tried to lie, like she had so many times when her friends, fellow tour guides, even executives asked the same question, but she couldn't find the energy to try and sound convincing.

"Don't lie to me, Mercy," her uncle said, shaking his finger at her. "It's written in your face. You can't tell me you're happy to be married to such an egotistical bastard."

"He's not that bad-" Mercy started, but caught herself. She was tired of making excuses and trying to convince herself she was okay.

"You're not doing this," her uncle declared, clasping his hands around her wrists and gripping them tightly.

"I made a promise," Mercy protested. "If I break it you'll… he'll kill you," she whispered. "I can't lose you too. Please. You're all I have left."

"I'll be okay," her uncle swore. "Now come on." He dragged her out of the room, down the hall opposite the chapel.

"Where are we going?" Mercy asked, exasperated.

"To the docks. I've hired a private ship and crew to take you somewhere safe. To a planet Hyperion has little control over." The words came out of her uncle's mouth hurriedly, so fast Mercy could barely understand them. She didn't fight against him much- she didn't want him to die for something she was about to do, but she trusted him and his judgement, even if she couldn't see the good in it now.

They arrived at the docks and her uncle turned to her, clasping her wrists again.

"My girl," he said, out of breath, "please. Save yourself."

"But-" Mercy tried to say again, however she was cut off by her uncle again.

"Mercy," He said, "I never had any children. I was too caught up in my work. Believe me, nothing would make me happier seeing you walk down the aisle in such a gorgeous gown." He tugged a little at the waist of her dress at the mention of the dress, then looked back to her with glimmering eyes. "But not with him. Don't walk to him. I would rather die knowing you had a chance at safety and happiness than live knowing every night you were at the hands of some slug like Vasquez."

Just hearing the name Mercy closed her eyes in annoyance. When she opened them again her shoulders drooped a little.

"I don't want you to be hurt," she whispered. "Is there any other way?" She gripped his jacket.

"No, my child," the man said, looking to the docked ship. "Now they aren't going to stay forever- they're taking you with some cargo and they've a strict schedule to stick to." He ushered her away to the shuttle.

Mercy turned and glanced at her uncle before the shuttle door closed behind her, obscuring her view of him. The ship lurched and they were off.

The men were nice in that they didn't try and speak to her about the incident, or ask questions as to why a woman in a white and purple wedding gown was on their ship. One led her to a seat near the cargo and strapped her in.

"You'll be safe here," he told her, tugging on the seatbelt to make sure it was secure. "It'll be a few hours before we reach our destination, so maybe try and get some rest."

Mercy nodded numbly, listening for when the man left. She heaved a sigh and curled up within the bounds of her seatbelt, dropping her bouquet to the ground. She stayed like that for what seemed like hours, but in reality it was no more than a few minutes.

What interrupted her comfy position was the ship giving a sudden lurch and something like a dull explosion sounded. Mercy undid her seatbelt with trembling hands and got to her feet, only to be knocked down when the shuttle lurched again.

She made it to the window opposite her, and saw Pandora was getting bigger.

"Mayday, mayday!" Shouted the captain over the intercom as everything shook. "We've been hit! We're being pulled into Pandora's gravitational pull!"

"...shit," was all Mercy could say, and when she heard something creak above her she turned to see some of the cargo had come loose and the belt holding it was swinging down. It smacked her in the side of the head and sent her sprawling to the ground. She took one more look at the growing planet from her spot on the floor as blackness invaded her vision.

Pandora.


	3. Chapter 3: The Redheaded Pandoran

Chapter Three: The Redheaded Pandoran

Ooh, Mercy's head hurt.

A lot.

Slowly she stirred and a low groan of protest emerged from her lips. She hurt everywhere, actually.

Her eyes opened and blinked several times. It was blurry, her vision, but slowly it was getting sharper. Bits and pieces of rubble were falling around her, and smoke filled the air. She rolled on her side and proceeded to cough and dry heave. Once her body decided she had been punished enough for the shuttle crashing, Mercy slowly got to her knees, and then her feet. Nothing was broken, thank god, but she was going to be left with a lot of bruises before the day's end.

Her heels hobbled along the metal ground, clicking echoing through the hollow husk.

"Hello?" She rasped out. "Is anyone there?"

A door was just barely hanging off its hinges, though in its easily accessible state it obscured her view of the room beyond. She went over and took the edge in her hands, prying it off those last few screws and tossing it aside.

Inside were the horribly mutilated bodies of the three crewmen, pierced with sharp metal and glass. Mercy covered her mouth with her hands and kept down her urge to empty her already empty stomach. She turned away and looked for the way out.

After several minutes of wandering around, Mercy eventually made it to the shuttle's main door. Part of it was gone and she could slide through with some huffing and puffing, if she was lucky.

But things never exactly go to plan. Mercy got stuck after her hips managed to get through the hole. She cursed and pushed herself up more, her feet dangling in the air below the thick sheet of metal. After some wiggling and creative word uses, she managed to get herself through, however her dress snagged on a sharp edge and ripped right at the thighs. Once she was free of the hole, she sat and continued to cut the fabric until it was all off, and dropped it into the shuttle, watching it fall and hit the ground.

"Bye bye," Mercy murmured, and stood on the smoking hull of the ship, wishing she had gone with the kitten heels instead of these four inch tall monstrosities. Her eyes surveyed the area and it was then she caught a glimpse of a smallish figure in the near distance. Looked like a little kid.

"Oh my god," Mercy said, relieved to see someone who might be of help. She somewhat gracefully hopped down from the shuttle and rushed towards the child, saying, "help! Help! Please help me!"

The child screamed and ran with surprising speed, heading back up the hilly dunes. Mercy swore and ran after her, cursing her heels as they slowed her down and kicked up sand behind her. Eventually she made it over the top of the large sand dune and bent over, huffing, hands on her knees. She heard the sound of a gun being cocked and looked up. She was staring right down the barrel of the weapon, and beyond that, as Mercy's eyes trailed along, was a dirt streaked redhead.

"You have two seconds to explain why you're chasing my sister and what you're doing here, or I'll pull the trigger."

Mercy glanced over her shoulder to the wreckage and pointed, gritting out, "ship… crashed. Need help."

The redheaded woman barked a laugh and grabbed Mercy roughly, pressing the gun to the blonde's temple.

"If I had a buck for every time I came across that trick… well, I would be able to move off this planet. I'll leave it at that." The woman's golden eyes narrowed as she took in Mercy's appearance. "Although I gotta say chicky, the wedding dress is a new development."

Mercy's breath finally returned.

"Please," she begged, "you have to believe me. I was trying to escape from Helios and we got knocked off course and-" She closed her eyes as the gun pressed against her soft temple even harder now.

"Did you just say 'Helios'?" Spat the redheaded woman. "As in _Hyperion's_ Helios?"

Bad move. Mercy winced and looked up at the woman.

"You want out?" She asked. "Off this planet? You help me and I can get you off this desert."

The gun was removed from her head and Mercy nearly sighed with relief. But she was roughly grabbed and quickly bound with tightly knotted ropes.

"I have a better idea," the redhead said. "I'll take you hostage until I decide what to do with you. You look like you're worth a lot of money. Wonder how much your husband would pay to get you back to him." She tapped Mercy's chin with the end of her gun and turned to the small girl. "Remi." The child snapped to attention.

"Yeah?" She asked, trying to sound and look tough in the face of the new woman.

"Get the caravan up and running. I want a quick getaway."

Remi nodded and ran off to a large vehicle, which looked like a hunk of metal trying to pass as either an apartment or a car and did a half-assed job at being both. The girl disappeared inside and after several moments the vehicle growled and shuddered to life.

"Get moving," the woman said, prodding Mercy in the side with her gun. "I'm a bit trigger happy and I've been itching to test out this new upgrade to my gun so don't tempt me."

"I'm moving, I'm moving," Mercy hissed, getting to her feet and wobbling in the uneven sand. She truly wished for a new set of heels.

The woman shoved Mercy into the caravan and shut the door behind them. The vehicle lurched forward.

A quick scan around the dingy vehicle revealed it was as shabby inside as it was on the outside. A small living room and dining area with what passed for a stove right beside the booth, and further on down a short hallway were three doors with what looked like two possible options- two bedrooms and a bathroom, or one bedroom, one bathroom, and a torture room. Mercy hoped for the former.

She looked back to the woman, who was studying her with a cold golden eyed gaze.

"That wedding dress looks near new," she said, gesturing for Mercy to go down the end of the hallway. "I don't know how you cons keep it pressed and clean."

"Well for one, it isn't a con, and two, thanks." Mercy muttered.

The woman rolled her eyes at Mercy's comment.

"That's what all the con artists say. I would know- I'm one of them. One of the best. That's how you stay alive here. But I assumed you'd already know that, since you're just so convincing." Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "So which group are you part of? You look too delicate to be part of the Skag Skinners. Maybe you're from Bullymong Pass. Funny though- you don't look like you've suffered from the cold. You've got all your fingers still. So not from there."

"I told you," Mercy said, exasperated, "I'm from Helios. This man, he tried to force me to marry him. Said he would kill my uncle. And I was going to go through with it but my uncle, he… he helped me escape! I was supposed to go to some other place but somehow we got knocked off course and-"

"Well I gotta say your story is more fleshed out than the other con artists," the woman interrupted, circling Mercy as she studied her torn dress. "Like I said, you're convincing. It's almost like you believe your own con story. That's a rookie move, though."

" _Please_ ," Mercy said, grasping at the end of the woman's petticoat now. "If this were a con don't you think other people would have attacked by now? That I would have attacked by now? I don't even know how to hold a gun!" This was a lie, but only partially. She knew how to hold and shoot a gun since her uncle taught her, but that was so long ago, when she was an early teenager. If she got her hands around one she would remember, fall into the flow of it all, but for now she was clueless. "Call and ransom me to whomever, anywhere, any time! But please. _Please_ , don't try and contact Helios. They'll just get my husband and… and…"

"Jesus, okay, calm down kiddo." The woman said, stepping out of Mercy's grip. She had to hand it to Mercy- she seemed convincing. For a moment there, it seemed like the girl was really going to cry. "Look, I'm going to call whoever I want. There isn't a way around it. I don't trust you."

Mercy composed herself and looked up at the woman with her large eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"I can't go back to him," she said.

"Oh enough!" The woman said, annoyed now. "Enough with the story! I swear to Christ if I hear another word from you I'll-"

"Shae!" Called the little girl from the front. Shae, it seemed the woman was named, sighed and hung her head before looking to the front of the caravan.

She shouted back, "Yeah?"

"Ambushers!" Came the high pitched response.

Shae cut Mercy a cold glare. "Still want to stick with that whole 'don't you think my friends would have attacked by now' spiel?" She asked, dragging her to the front.

"Behind us," said Remi. "In the mirrors. Look. Coming up over the horizon."

"Good eye." Shae said, patting Remi's head. "I'll take care of them. Just keep driving. We need to get to the Purple Skag, remember?" The young girl nodded and stayed focused on the road.

Shae went over to the left of the living room. Opposite the door, across the caravan, was a ladder and above that a hatch. She climbed the ladder, her boots clicking against the metal, and forced the hatch open with a grunt.

"Come up!" She shouted to Mercy.

"What?" Mercy asked in surprise.

"You think I'm leaving you down here with my defenseless sister and not with me, where I can easily shoot you if you try and cause trouble? Yeah right," scoffed the woman. "Now get your ass up here."

Mercy obeyed quickly, her heels causing trouble. She cursed and kicked them off, watching them fall to the metal floor below.

"Finally," Shae grunted, kicking the hatch shut. "See those over there? Those are your friends."

Mercy turned her eyes to the horizon behind the caravan. Over the sand dunes several bandits and psychos rushed forward. They had two vehicles, quickly gaining speed.

"And they have bullymongs. Shit!" Shae hissed, pressing a few buttons on a device on her arm. A gun materialised in her hands- better than her pistol, which Mercy could no longer see on Shae's person. Shae raised the gun and fired. Several of the specks of people fell down, but the vehicles were still gaining. They fired back, almost all the shots missing. One, however, hit the caravan's rear right wheel and the vehicle lurched. Shae and Mercy tumbled, but caught their balance.

"Fuck!" Shae shouted.

"Give me a gun," Mercy rationalised. Shae shot her a glare.

"Are you fucking crazy?" She said to Mercy. "And let you shoot me in the back? It ain't happening, dollface."

"Think about it!" Mercy shouted back over the sounds of the caravan driving and the psychos approaching. "It's one against all of them. If you add me into the mix I might be able to get at least one of those hell trucks off our backs and you can focus on those… bully mongers or whatever." Shae didn't respond for a second. "Look, if you feel like I'll betray you, you have every right to shoot me in the back!"

"Bully _mongs_ ," Shae corrected, and thought it over a second. She punched a few keys and materialised another weapon like hers. "Take this. And I'll take you up on that offer to shoot you, if I see fit."

Mercy took the gun, but Shae held tight. Mercy locked eyes with her and saw the woman wasn't joking. Not that she expected her to be, but the look in Shae's eyes was killer. Finally, Shae released the gun and turned her attention back to the approaching heathens. She fired at the large monster creature things, and Mercy turned her attention to the vehicles.

She raised the gun and time seemed to slow. She aimed for the first vehicle's front right tire, breathed in, out, then shot. She missed, and had to shoot again. The wheel deflated quickly and surprised the driver, who tried compensating for the swerve but ended up crashing into one of the bullymongs. The creature protested and turned its attention to dismembering whoever was in the vehicle.

Mercy noticed that they were entering a ravine, and looked up. They didn't have enough bullets to stop or even slow the oncoming attack. But maybe…

"Tell the girl to ram the caravan into the side of the ravine," Mercy said loudly to Shae. She gave Mercy another glare.

"Shit, you really are crazy," Shae said. "But no."

"No, hear me out! If she does we can loosen the boulders above. Look!" Mercy pointed to the fast approaching rocks. "They're unstable. They're shaking, but they're not falling. If we get them to fall over, they can crush whatever is too close behind us and stop the rest from following." Shae narrowed her eyes and studied Mercy, looking for any flaws in her plan.

"What if they fall on us instead?"

"Then I guess either way we won't be chased anymore," was Mercy's response.

Shae's eyes narrowed a bit more and she tapped on the comm in her ear.

"Remi! Slam the side of the caravan against the cliff wall. See those big rocks? We want those to hit our attackers."

She must have given Shae a bit of trouble because Shae had to talk the girl into it. Meanwhile, mercy focused on not fucking dying and shooting any bandit that got too close. Not enough to kill them, she discovered, but subconsciously she had been shooting to fatally wound- have the pain last and have them bleed out.

The caravan lurched as it suddenly hit the side of the ravine. Shae screamed as she went over the edge. Mercy dove for her and grasped her hands.

"I've got you!" She shouted to the woman hanging on for dear life. She glanced and saw the rocks were beginning to come down. She had to get Shae up- and fast.

"Pull! Fucking PULL!" Shae shouted, and Mercy obliged quickly, grunting and tugging up on the woman's arm before the caravan could slam into the wall of the ravine again.

Mercy got Shae up just before a large rock crashed down, narrowly missing the woman's feet by a mere inch. Mercy stood and watched as the rest of the boulders and rocks crashed into the ground behind them, towering high above the caravan. Whatever was underneath them was dead, and if anything was behind them, well, hopefully they were well versed in rock climbing.

Dust and tiny bits of rubble rained down over the caravan as it slowed to a stop. Mercy was quiet a moment before a laugh bubbled up from her lips. One, two, three of them and she couldn't stop the rest.

"What's up with you?" Shae asked, getting to her feet, having recovered from the shock of near death.

"Just… relieved…" Mercy said between laughs.

"Yeah, yeah." Shae said with a wave of her hand and checked in with Remi. Mercy ignored the one sided conversation and saw her weapon on the ground. She walked over and picked it up, studying the well made device. She turned it over, switched the safety on, and looked back to the rock tower.

"Put it down," Mercy heard, and felt the familiar feel of a gun against her spine. Not wanting to argue and get shot, Mercy obliged, putting the gun back on the ground at her feet. She was quickly rebound.

Shae led her back to the hatch on the top of the caravan and opened it for her, gesturing for her to go down first.

 **Alternate Ending #1**

"Okay, okay," Mercy said, heading down the ladder. "I'm going." She dropped the last couple inches to the floor and moved for Shae to come down.

Shae landed beside Mercy and looked at Mercy with a cold gaze.

"So your husband," She said as she dusted herself off and patted Remi's head after the young girl had come to join them, "who exactly is he?"

Mercy hesitated a moment. She just saved this woman's life, so she had some leverage, some level of trust, right?

"His name is Vasquez. Hugo Vasquez," she said with slumped shoulders. Just the thought of him made her frightened, his hands moving roughly over her body and pinning her down against the silk of his sheets… she gave a little shudder. "He's the vice president of Hyperion. He, uh… well, he tricked me into a marriage by threatening to kill my uncle."

"Honey, I get that you're cute and all, but unless you've got something really good going for you I don't really buy this story." Shae said, sending Remi back to the drive the caravan. She folded her arms and glared at Mercy.

Mercy decided to trust Shae. It was a terrible mistake.

"I'm… Handsome Jack's daughter," Mercy admitted uncomfortably. There was a silence in the air.

Shae broke it by punching Mercy in the face. As Mercy was blacking out she heard the words, "Christ, it's always the blondes, ya know?"

When Mercy came to she noticed two things- her face hurt, a lot, and she was bound and placed in the back room of the caravan.

She lay on her side, one of her arms tucked underneath her and, judging by the way it didn't feel, was asleep. She slowly sat up, trying to clear her head. Her cheek really hurt and was probably swollen. A quick glance out the window told her they weren't moving, but they were definitely stopped in a different place.

She could hear talking outside, not too far away but on the other side of the caravan. Unlike this side, she didn't have access to the outside world with a window. She strained her ears to listen.

"...I'm not telling you where she is until I get my sister back," She heard Shae say.

"Relax," she heard someone else say, "he gets what he wants and you'll walk away unscathed." Mercy was relieved when she knew the voice didn't belong to Vasquez, and visibly she relaxed.

"That him?" Shae asked. What followed sounded like a moonshot, but it got closer and landed not too far away. A car.

Oh shit.

Mercy straightened and strained herself to listen harder.

"Yeah, that's him," came the hiss from the disgruntled henchman, "now shut up."

The car slowed and stopped. The engine was cut and someone stepped out. God, even his walk proclaimed he was a dick.

"Greetings and salutations," Vasquez declared. Mercy imagined him straightening his tie. "I hear you Pandoran scum have some news on my runaway bride."

"That's rich," Shae said. "I do. But you have to let my sister go first before I tell you anything."

"Fair enough," Vasquez said. "Let the girl go."

Mercy heard tiny feet pattering a little ways away, and Shae whispering to Remi.

"Now tell me where Mercy is," Vasquez demanded. She heard a gun being loaded and the safety being switched off.

"Caravan," Shae said. "In the back. She was knocked out when I put her in there, but she might have come to. Her wrists are bound, though."

"Wouldn't make a difference," Vasquez muttered, "she can never put up a fight against me anyway. Keep an eye on these two- wouldn't want to get shot in the back. I know how you Pandorans play." Mercy could imagine the grin he gave Shae and Remi.

She didn't like that grin.

Mercy's heart thumped as she heard Vasquez approaching. She turned and cowered in the corner as the shadow of his feet appeared at the door.

It swung open and there he was- dressed immaculately, looking handsome, his hair perfect in its style, and the rather large weapon at his side, held casually as if it were a part of him.

"Found you," he said, stepping in the room.

"No," Mercy said, curling up into the corner even more, wishing her spine would dissolve into the wall and the rest of her body would follow suit. "No, don't come any closer."

"Oh, your dress is all torn up," Vasquez said in a teasing tone, walking over to her. "Usually that's done by the groom. I feel so left out." He gave a fake pout and towered over her. He undid the bounds on her wrists. "Get up," he said softly, though an edge to his tone told her she wouldn't have much of a choice.

"Hugo, please," Mercy whispered, looking up at him, her eyes brimming with tears that she felt were just beginning to fall. "Please don't."

"I said _get up_." He was getting to be impatient now.

Mercy refused to move, staring up at her husband like a frightened dog would its abusive owner. She was rewarded with a backhanded slap so hard it knocked her off balance. She steadied herself with one hand anchored to the floor, and her other went to her cheek. She looked up at Hugo again.

"You little slut," he hissed, grabbing her roughly and yanking her up, only to toss her to the floor again. "What's going to get you to finally give in, hm? What do you need to hear that'll make you finally stop fighting? Your family is dead, Mercedes! I killed your uncle only seconds before I got in my car to get here. You're an orphan."

A low moan came from Mercy as she heard the fate of her uncle. She slowly got up again, using her arms and elbows to prop herself up, grunting from pain as she felt a kick to her ribs that sent her back the cold metal floor of the caravan.

"You're nothing now. This is your place, Mercedes." He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head up to meet her eyes with his hardened amber ones. "On the floor, at my feet. At my, well," he chuckled coldly, "at my _mercy_. And I'm telling you, I have no mercy left to give." He released her hair and gently gripped her chin, which was more terrifying than him beating her, for some reason. The eye of the hurricane, the calm of the storm. Mercy knew there was worse to come and it may not even be to her. He wiped a tear off her cheek.

"Don't cry, my love," he told her. "It's for the better. This is a lesson. We learn from our mistakes, right?" Mercy took the cue and nodded, slowly. "Good. Now, let's get you home and showered up."

"Home?" Asked Mercy as he took her arm and pulled her up, not too gruffly but not gently either.

"More specifically, let's get you in my bed," Vasquez said with a smirk and suggestive tone.

Mercy yanked her arm from his grasp. "No- you killed my uncle. I've got nothing tied to you."

Vasquez feigned disappointment a moment and sighed dramatically, running his fingers through his hair.

"Oh dear… you're a tough student, aren't you." He let that stand in the air a moment before he grabbed her and twisted her arm, so that her back was against him. His tough hold kept her from moving as he said to her, "Let me make this simple- if you don't walk out of here right now I will shoot that redhead and her lovely little sister where they stand and I will do it without so much as even a second thought or sign of remorse. That's the way this works, babydoll, and there isn't anything you can do about it. You've married a stone cold killer and dammit you're going to live up to my expectations or people are going to die." He turned her around, making Mercy face him. "I will break you," he growled, "I swear to Christ, Mercedes, I will break you down and you'll be nothing. You'll be begging for me because without me you'll be lost. So walk out of this place and get into my car like a good little girl and we won't have any more problems. We certainly won't have any more lessons like this. Now, promise me you won't make a fuss on the way to the car." He trailed his knuckles down the cheek he had struck earlier, perhaps as a soothing technique, however Mercy also knew he could easily make this a painful gesture if she made the wrong move.

Mercy struggled inwardly to say the words. Vasquez quirked his brow and waited for her answer.

"Say it," he pressured quietly, digging his knuckles a little into her inflamed cheek.

"I… I promise," Mercy said, thinking of that sweet little girl and the redhead outside. "Don't hurt them, please, Hugo. I won't run anymore if you won't hurt them."

"Good girl." Was all Vasquez said in response, and kissed her forehead.

Mercy walked out with Vasquez. The sunlight was blinding after having been in the dark of the caravan for the last few hours. She hesitated and shielded her eyes from the sun a moment before walking down the steps of the caravan. Vasquez played the role of the gentleman and helped her down, noticing how shaky she was on her feet. He held a certain pride in him, knowing that he, and only he, could bring Mercy down. But not entirely. He noticed it, in how his wife walked, a look in her eyes. She still had hope. She still had something in her that was willing to fight.

He didn't like that.

"Easy does it," he told her, holding her hand gently as she walked down the last step. "Let's get you home and in bed."

Mercy glanced to Shae and the look on her face said it all. Mercy knew then that Shae wasn't a monster like she had seemed.

Shae knew then that Mercy wasn't someone who pretended to be scared of someone in some sort of con. Bruises were welling up on her arms and her face, and she didn't even want to think about other places. She had heard some of the struggle in the caravan- someone was getting knocked around and judging by the way the man was doting on her it definitely hadn't been him.

Vasquez helped Mercy into the car.

"I'll be but a moment," he told her, locking the car door with his fingerprint. Mercy knew from the look in his eyes something was about to happen. She clawed at the door and was denied access.

Vasquez went to Shae and Remi, studying them silently a moment. His back blocked Mercy's view of the two girls.

He raised his gun and fired twice.

Twice was all he needed.

Mercy covered her mouth to stifle her scream. When her husband moved away, her eyes confirmed what her brain already knew- the two girls had been shot. Vasquez wiped a spot of blood off his suit and gave a few more orders to the henchmen, cracked some joke she couldn't hear, and unlocked the driver's door before sliding in. He switched the safety on the gun and tossed it in the back seat, looking to Mercy with a smirk of triumph.

"Now I know you won't go anywhere," he said with glee. "You're too in shock to even speak." He started the vehicle and revved the engine, typing a few things on the keypad and sending the car into reverse to give it plenty of space to take off.

Mercy blankly watched through the window as the car lifted off into the air. Vasquez shifted through the gears to get the vehicle to leave Pandora's atmosphere and eventually its gravitational pull. He rambled on and on about things Mercy couldn't care less about- his words eventually fell deaf on her ears as she watched Helios loom above them, growing larger every second as they got closer.

She blinked and the next thing she knew she was in his apartment. Years had passed since the two girls had been murdered. Time had not been too kind to her- Vasquez had her wrapped around his finger anywhere and everywhere, and she had been following every wish and command he had without so much as a single word of protest. Her mind had been set on autopilot, and she found herself sitting at the edge of the bed, in her silk robe, staring at the wall. He was in his office, wouldn't be back for another few hours.

The broken woman looked down at the gun in her hand, turned it towards herself, and closed her eyes.

 _ **The Story Continued**_

"Okay, okay," Mercy said, heading down the ladder. "I'm going." She dropped the last couple inches to the floor and moved for Shae to come down.

Shae landed beside Mercy and looked at Mercy with a cold gaze.

"So your husband," She said as she dusted herself off and patted Remi's head after the young girl had come to join them, "who exactly is he?"

Mercy hesitated a moment. She just saved this woman's life, so she had some leverage, some level of trust, right?

"His name is Vasquez. Hugo Vasquez," she said with slumped shoulders. Just the thought of him made her frightened, his hands moving roughly over her body and pinning her down against the silk of his sheets… she gave a little shudder. "He's the vice president of Hyperion. He, uh… well, he tricked me into a marriage by threatening to kill my uncle."

"Honey, I get that you're cute and all, but unless you've got something really good going for you I don't really buy this story." Shae said, sending Remi back to the drive the caravan. She folded her arms and glared at Mercy.

Mercy decided not to trust Shae. It was a good decision, all in all. She didn't want to think about what might have happened if she found out Mercy was Handsome Jack's daughter.

"I just… I don't know, I think I'm just a trophy wife. Not the lowest of the workers, but not too powerful as to overcome his name, pretty enough to be shown off." _Weak enough to dominate me in any place he chooses_ , Mercy added silently with an odd look in her eyes.

Shae caught the look and waved her off.

"Alright, alright," she said, bringing Mercy back to Pandora by snapping in her face several times. "Look, I don't want to know all the sob story details of your life and I certainly don't want to know the kinky details of his, so just leave it."

"Right," Mercy said, nodding and tucking her hair behind her ears in nervousness, "sorry."

"Yeah, well," Shae said, and turned to Remi. "Let's go ahead and get to August's place before it gets too dark." She left Mercy standing there, she doubted the woman would do anything since she had that weird look in her eye again, and talked quietly to Remi. "What do you think about her?" She whispered.

The little girl looked to the blonde woman in her tattered wedding gown, then back to Shae.

"She smells like vanilla," Remi whispered. "Not sure if that's a good thing or not," she added carefully. Shae smirked and gave a little chuckle. Her little sister generally had a good sense of whether or not to trust people- something like that childlike innocence gave her a better insight to people. Mercy didn't necessarily _look_ threatening in her wedding gown and the bogus story about an arranged marriage, but Shae had come across plenty of people who didn't look like stone cold killers, and look how that always turned out.

Shae rubbed the back of her neck and started the caravan for the girl. "Go ahead and take the short route- I know it isn't exactly the safest, but it's the fastest and we need to get there soon if we want good money on this deal."

"Are we going to sell the girl back to her husband?" Remi asked. Shae felt caught- the girl had always been a little older than she looked, mentally at least, and had no problem calling Shae out on things she shouldn't be able to understand.

"Not sure yet," Shae said. "First I have to deliver the cargo. Then we'll see." She glanced to Mercy, who had moved to look out the window, staring up at what Shae assumed was Helios, the bride's possible home. "How much do you think she's worth?" The words were out of her mouth before she even realised they had formed. She felt a little tinge of guilt having said that to her little sister.

Remi was quiet for a moment before she spoke.

"$10." Shae snorted at the prospect.

"Little more than that," Shae responded, and left the girl to drive. She went over to Mercy, who was gripping the windowsill so tightly her knuckles were turning white.

"Having flashbacks of the war?" Shae asked jokingly, knocking the girl from her reverie.

"Hm?" Mercy turned her blue eyes to Shae. The light caught them and one glinted to ice grey, the other to deep sea blue. _Interesting_ , Shae thought, but let it be.

"You were just staring so intently out the window, one would think you're having flashbacks. Probably of all the terrible work you had to do up there. You know, killing people, ruining hopes and dreams, torturing planets," Shae said with an underlying tone of hostility.

"I was a tour guide," Mercy said point blank. Shae faltered a bit, but didn't show it.

"Everyone who works for Hyperion is nothing but a killer," She said, being completely sinister and malicious now.

"I agree," Mercy replied numbly, looking to Helios in the sky.

"Of course you do," Shae muttered. She wasn't getting the reaction she wanted and therefore wasn't having as much fun.

"So you going to ransom me as soon as you get to your next destination?" Mercy asked. Shae stared at her. So much for being quiet about it all, but Mercy seemed to be smarter than she looked anyhow- probably figured it out the second she was taken captive.

"Don't know yet," Shae admitted. "You seem pretty handy. Somewhat smart, plus," she lowered her voice and rubbed the back of her neck in near embarrassment, "you did kinda save my life."

"Gotta earn me some points, at least," Mercy said, tugging at a loose string in her gown. Shae studied the dress and sighed.

"Well, either way I have to get you out of that dress," Shae muttered. "It won't do, even if I do ransom you off. Come on- you're about my size." She led Mercy down the hall to the back of the caravan, rummaging through a makeshift dresser and tossing out a pair of pants, some combat boots, a black tanktop, and a brown jacket. "Get changed," Shae said, stepping out into the hall. "And no funny business," she added as she closed the door.

Mercy looked at the crumbled clothes on the floor. They didn't look too clean. But cleanliness was nothing compared to practicality. She sighed and unzipped the back of her dress, stepping out of it and letting it heap the floor. She surveyed the fabric a second, all its tattered and dusty glory, and smiled to herself. She felt a little bit better now, like a snake shedding its skin. Then she frowned and shook her head because a snake was not a good simile for her. She turned and shrugged into the clothing. It was a little large in some places, but other than that Mercy felt comfortable. She turned and looked in the little mirror Shae had.

She was almost unrecognisable- Pandora fit her. Perhaps better than Hyperion ever had.

Shae opened the door.

"Good, you're ready," she said, ushering Mercy out of the room and closing the door. "We're just about here anyway. Okay, while you're with us, you have to act like you belong. You look halfway decent in your clothes and there is really nothing we can do about the scent of vanilla, but I think we'll barely make it."

"Vanilla isn't necessarily a bad thing," muttered Mercy as she tied her hair up out of her face.

Shae stopped and turned to stare intensely at Mercy.

"Vanilla _is_ a bad thing. It's the worst thing out there." She said. Mercy raised her hands in surrender.

"Everything I say to you is just a backhanded slap, isn't it?" Mercy pinpointed, lowering her hands to rest on her hips.

Shae studied the woman a second before turning away and heading down the hall. "Hurry up, Cinderella," she said over her shoulder. "We don't have all day."

"Cinderella?" Mercy questioned, following in pursuit. "Where did that even come from?" She forgot to question how a true Pandora would even know the scent of vanilla, as no place really existed that had that scent laying around.

"Just popped into my head. Consider me your fairy godmother. I'll just shoot you if you pull anything weird." Shae answered.

"I don't remember the fairy tale going _quite_ like that," Mercy muttered, dragging her fingertips along the wall of the caravan.

"We getting close, Remi?" Shae asked, ignoring Mercy's comment.

"Almost," Remi responded over her shoulder.

"What's this Purple Skag, anyway?" Mercy asked.

"It's a bar owned by an old… frenemy," Shae said, adding the title carefully. "We go there to do business with him, and I have a shipment to drop off." Mercy quilted a brow and Shae shook her head. "That's all you need to know," Shae insisted.

Mercy turned away and went back to stare at the window. Shae rolled her eyes and watched through the windshield as the bar loomed over them the closer they got.

The place was, to put it politely, a dump. But it was one of the nicer dumps in town, and would have attracted more business had the owner not had the reputation of, well, being quite a harsh collector. If he didn't bet his money, a bullet in the debtor's head would be a helluva lot better in most cases. Shae had witnessed very few of those, and had participated in even fewer. They were events she wanted to put out of her mind, but when she was near here it was all she could think about.

Remi slowed the caravan to a stop just outside and glanced to her sister who was loading her gun and sliding it up the sleeve of her tattered jacket.

"Alright," Shae said, looking to Remi as she picked up a case containing the precious cargo. "You know the drill. You get _water_ , don't question why August doesn't have milk that isn't spoiled. Sit in the booth and don't say a word, don't look at anyone, and don't ask for a refill." Her eyes softened at Remi's nods. "Come on girlie- stick it through and I'll be sure to get you something for it." She didn't want to think about leaving Remi alone in the bar by herself, but with Mercy… Shae turned to the woman.

"Yes?" Mercy asked, snapping back to reality. She seemed to drift away a lot, Shae noticed.

"You get to stay with my sister and not say a thing, but if anyone, particularly August asks, you were one of the archeologists at the site I got the cargo," Shae ordered.

"Do I get to know what this cargo is, exactly?" Mercy asked, shifting her weight to the other leg and folding her arms, eyeing the case in Shae's hand.

"No. Just refer to it as cargo. August won't even be that bothered with you anyway," Shae said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Not unless you do that annoying thing."

"What annoying thing?" Mercy asked.

"That. That thing. Where you talk," Shae said with a smirk.

"Fair enough," Mercy grumbled, and looked to Remi, who was staring at her intently. "Ah… You're making me nervous, kiddo."

"She does that," Shae stated. "Puts people on their best behaviour." _Usually_ , she added in her head. She opened the door to the caravan and walked halfway down the steps, surveying the area. They didn't want any little psychos around- not after last time. Remi was lucky Shae was nearby, but she still felt terrible about the tiny shimmer of a scar over her little sister's lip. "It's all clear," she said over her shoulder, continuing down the rest of the steps.

Remi emerged from the darkness of the caravan, followed by Mercy.

"Best behaviour," Shae reminded in a whisper, giving Remi's hand a little squeeze as she helped her down the steps. The three stood and studied the exterior of the Purple Skag- it had seen better days, that was for sure. It looked like hell even when Shae and Remi frequented there, but now it looked like… well it was worse now. Shae turned to Mercy and held out a knife by its blade.

"Don't make me regret giving you this," Shae said in a low tone.

"What can I do with this, exactly?" Mercy asked, taking the blade and studying it. A little on the small side, but sharp. She had worked with tools smaller than this and yet somehow did greater damage. "Bring a knife to a gunfight?" She smirked a little.

"Just remember who has the guns," Shae said. "It's for last resorts, and it isn't really for you." She laid a protective hand on Remi's hand. "Got it?"

Mercy tucked the knife into her boot. "Got it," she affirmed.

Shae turned to the Purple Skag.

"Good." She took a deep breath and headed inside.


	4. Chapter 4: The Purple Skag

Chapter Four: The Purple Skag

The doorman moved away to let Shae and the two others part. He knew Shae and Remi, but was more cautious about their third member. Pretty- smelled like vanilla. Two bad things on Pandora. He looked for a third, three strikes and you're out, but a look Shae gave him made him stop looking. Pretty and smelled like vanilla- nothing out of the ordinary.

"Nice to see you again Shae," the doorman breathed, making Shae wince at the scent of his alcohol and rotten meat stained breath. "It's been a while. August has been waiting for you."

Shae gave an easy and suave smile. "Well I'm here now. And I have his cargo." She gave the case she was holding a little twitch. Remi and Mercy followed silently.

The inside of the bar was nicer than the outside. August tended to have his lackeys keep it somewhat kept. Didn't want to drive out the other 25% the business of alcohol brought in. Shae knew the bar was really just a front to pick up the slack of what the business really did.

Voices were coming down the stairs. Shae recognised the suave tone.

"My friend, don't worry about it. If you need another month or two to scrounge up the funds, then take the time you need. I'm a flexible man. So long as I get what's promised to me." August came into view on the last couple steps, walking an elderly man down the stairs, his arm slung over his shoulders in a casual style. Shae knew what this meant, and tensed up.

"Thank you August," the older man blubbered. "You do good work here."

"Right," August said, eyeing Shae and losing interest in the older man. He removed his arm from the man's shoulders. "Have my doorman take you home safely." He and Shae stared at each other while the old man practically bolted for the door and into the darkness.

"Took you a while," he remarked as he dusted off his rolled sleeves of his white shirt. At least it was white at some point, Shae assumed. There are some things that a good washing just can't get out. Bad blood was one of those things.

"Good things take time," Shae said in a new tone, one Mercy hadn't heard in the hours they had known each other. August and Shae shook hands and Mercy could practically feel the tension in the air.

"Except when something is promised to me I expect it on time," August said. A gunshot in the distance added to the words. _That poor old man,_ Shae thought. August really liked everything to be on time, on his schedule. It was his way or no way at all, and who knew which one was better. Living was something everyone wanted to continue, but no one wanted to be caught in August's web of deceit. You give more than you've taken, in that regard, and Shae certainly knew that better than anybody.

"Well, it's here now," Shae said with ease. "I'm here now."

"Yes… you are, aren't you," August said through his teeth in a quiet tone. His eyes drifted from Shae to the woman standing behind her. "Who's she?" He asked with a point of his blonde bearded chin.

"Oh, her?" Shae asked, looking over her shoulder to Mercy with disinterest. "She was one of the archeologists at the site."

"Why is she here with you, then?" August asked, moving past her towards Mercy, who was tending to Remi. She looked up at the approaching man, sending a glance to Shae. She straightened and stood.

"Hello." August said, surveying the woman. Pretty- smelled like vanilla. And very familiar… "Have I seen you before?"

"No August, I told you," Shae said, stepping between the two. "She's an archaeologist at Eden 6. She helped us smuggle the cargo out." August tried to get a better look at the woman, but she had turned away and began tending to Remi again, playing with her and keeping her out of anyone's hair.

"Alright," August said, suspicion in his tone. "We'll leave it." But he could swore he had seen her before- a glimpse of her, somewhere, in the back of her mind. Something with a blue dress… But he put the thought aside and led Shae up the stairs into a secluded hallway, making for the first door on the left. "Let me see it," he said, sitting on the corner of the desk in the middle of the room.

Shae set the case down on the centre of the desk and unlocked the case through a fingerprint scanner and a code. Air hissed from the sides as the case open, followed by a faint purple glow.

Gently guiding the case lid, Shae revealed the cargo inside. The glow became more brilliant then, lighting up the dim room.

August swore and leaned closer for a good look. "And they just dug it up?" He asked, reaching out to touch it. Shae thought quickly and grabbed his hand. He glared at her, the tensions grew. "What are you doing?" He asked. Shae released his wrist slowly.

"You wouldn't want any radiation poisoning, would you?" She asked, closing the case. "I just saved you from a few hours of puking your guts out."

"Ah… Yes. I see," August murmured, his greedy blue eyes watching the case close and lock again. "Um… Thanks, I guess." He glanced to the door, left slightly ajar, then back to Shae. "You know… It's been awhile since you've been here."

"Yes, August," Shae said. "We've been over this."

"I know we have," August shrugged. "Just thought you should know."

"Well thanks, for letting me know," Shae said in an uninterested tone. She finished locking the case and picked it up by its handle. "Now come on- we don't want to be late."

"Right," August said, hopping from his spot off the desk and dusting his chained jeans off. "Let's get going. We'll discuss your percentage along the way."

Shae froze in her spot and gave August a cold look. "We agreed upon 25%-75%."

August shrugged as if to say 'what can you do'. "You know Shae it's been a while. That kind of split is only for serious business partners. I'm thinking 20%-80% now."

"Stick with the plan, August, or I'll find a higher buyer. Who's even buying this anyway?" Shae asked, keeping the case close to her.

"Some Hyperion schmoodge. Vasquez I think his name was," August said. "He was anxious to get it too- it was almost too easy to negotiate a price with him. But hey, who cares why he wants it if it's going to make us rich?"

"That's… fair," Shae said, quickly thinking of a plan. Didn't Mercy say her husband's name was Vasquez. Interesting. "But we're sticking with the 25%-75% split."

August gave what could barely pass for a smile. "We'll talk," he said. "Now come on- let's get to that deal. You know how I like to be prompt."

"Yes, I know," Shae said with a bit of an eye roll. "Now where is this meeting taking place?"

"Shade's World of Curiosity's. It's pretty private seeing as how no one is ever really there," August explained as he walked down the steps to the bar with Shae behind him.

"Good choice," Shae muttered begrudgingly. She felt a little relieved when she saw Mercy was sitting with Remi in a secluded corner of the bar, and that Remi was closest to the wall of the booth. "You go ahead and head out," Shae said to August. "I just want to talk to Remi really fast."

August gave Shae a weird look a moment, before relenting. "Don't take too long. Punctuality," he reminded her, tapping the face of his watch a moment, then turned and left the bar in charge of the weathered bartender. He disappeared outside the door.

Shae breathed a sigh of relief and moved to Mercy and Remi, sitting opposite the two in the other side of the booth.

"How'd it go?" Remi asked, her water cup untouched in front of her. With a quick glance inside, Shae saw green blobs stuck to the walls of the cup or floating in the liquid. Gross. Her nose wrinkled and she pushed the cup away from her sister.

"About as well as it usually does," Shae answered. "Now, we have to go to Shade's World of Curiosity's to close the deal. Do you have a comm link with you?"

Remi nodded.

"Good," Shae said. "Give it to Mercy." She trained her eyes to the blonde woman. "I'm trusting you that if something goes wrong you can get us out of this."

"Why me?" Mercy asked.

Shae hesitated on her answer. What should she tell her? That her husband was showing up for the deal, and that she could knock out two birds with one stone? Get the money and get the Hyperion worker out of her hair all in one go? Her mind raced.

"My sister isn't exactly bulletproof, and with the people we're meeting up to close the deal with, they don't really care if a person trying to stop a deal is a child. They see a person trying to keep them from getting precious cargo," Shae answered pointedly. "So how about don't question obvious logic? Now, I'll give you the comm and you'll listen. If something goes wrong I want you to rush in there and help out."

"Who are these people you're meeting up with," Mercy asked suspiciously.

"Does it matter?" Shae said impatiently. "Do this for me, and it'll be easier for you."

"Funny, I've heard all that before," Mercy said, leaning back against the worn cushions of the booth. "But because I have a feeling I don't really have a choice in the matter, I'll do it."

"Good. Because you didn't," Shae said, tapping the table with her fingertips. "Now you're going to follow us in the caravan. Think you can be stealthy?"

Mercy opened her mouth to speak but Shae cut her off.

"Yeah didn't think so. Remi, you're stealthy. You follow in the caravan. Mercy, you wait in the caravan and listen if I need any help."

The woman opposite Shae sighed and rubbed her temples. Whatever was going to get her into Shae's good graces she was willing to do. ANy chance she would convince her she was useful and unthreatening she was going to take.

"So how do I help you out if you get yourself in a bind?" Mercy asked as Shae stood and began to move to the door.

"You try and think of a solution. Pandorans don't always have a set of rules or a guidebook that get them out of every little problem they come across. They have to use their heads and think." Shae said bluntly, and left, leaving Mercy with a lot of unanswered questions, one of them being, _why did Shae use 'they' and 'their' instead of 'we' or 'us'?_

Sitting in the caravan was stupid. It really was. So far Mercy had been listening to August drone on and on about nothing in particular, but she was piecing together fairly quickly that August and Shae were once a thing. Quickly, then, nearly everything became a euphemism, what he was saying. At least, to keep herself from getting too bored or falling asleep, that's what Mercy was scrounging for.

After Remi had driven to the back of Shade's World of Curiosity's, she quickly gave over the comm and picked up something to do. Mercy wasn't really sure what is was- a book or puzzle or something, because Remi never really let her see it. The girl was private, that was for sure. Which was astounding because most children her age was all about showing people their works and accomplishments.

Then again, any child that went through any sort of trauma keeps to themselves. Mercy certainly had. And, if Remi was raised here on Pandora, she must have learned quickly to keep her business purely her business.

Things on the comm fell silent for a second, and Mercy tensed up. Had something gone wrong? Was the link somehow disconnected? She straightened, then her shoulders slumped and she sighed when she heard August begin speaking again.

"Christ," she muttered to herself. Could this get any worse?

" _He's late_ ," she heard August say. " _Why is he late? We discussed this time for so many reasons. It worked with his-_ "

" _It doesn't matter why he's late_ ," Shae shot back. " _What matters is that eventually he shows up and we get our money_."

" _I suppose you're right_ ," August responded. " _I just get antsy. You know how I am_."

Silence again for a little bit.

Then, August said in a gruff tone, " _What, did you guys get stuck in traffic_?" Oh shit. Deal's starting. " _You Hyperion guys are usually so punctual._ "

" _Well excuse me, I don't know if you heard those explosions outside, but we had to mow down a couple of hundred bandits just so we could get here,_ " responded a new voice. Mercy sat up.

Was that…?

" _Is Vasquez coming_?" August asked. Mercy's blood turned cold.

Vasquez? He wasn't there, but that was who August was trading with, apparently. Was this the deal Vasquez was always hastily finishing whenever she walked in the room? Her eyes narrowed. Is that, then, why Shae gave her the comm? So she could fake an emergency and have Mercy come in, only to be sent right back to Helios. Oh, that was such a Pandoran move.

" _You're dealing with me now_ ," Said the new voice. " _The name's Rhys. And this here is my friend Vaughn_."


End file.
